


Calculated Risks

by wimpyghost



Category: Homestuck
Genre: (i guess), Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, awkward teenage boys asking other awkward teenage boys out awkwardly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 16:24:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wimpyghost/pseuds/wimpyghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>how to ask someone out using a calculator; a story</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calculated Risks

**Author's Note:**

> a thrilling tale inspired by a tumblr post
> 
> (this sucks im sorry)

You see him in school every day, and every time you tell yourself that today, you will do it. You will ask him out.

But you never do, because you're a stupid, pathetic wimp.

You have two classes together – biology and math. He sits right next to you in math, so of course you've talked before, but it's always just been very simple stuff, like _'do you have a spare pencil?'_ or _'sorry, I just want to check – what's the answer to problem number three?'_.

It still makes your heart beat fast, though.

And you hate him for it.

You hate his stupid messy brown hair and his nerdy glasses, hate how cute his face is and the way he smiles, his eyes which always light up whenever he gets excited – yes, you notice, you secretly watch him a lot, after all – and which shouldn't be as blue as they are.

You even hate his dumb nasally voice and the fact that he's so good at biology and his height, because he's just as tall as you wish you were – a nice average 5'7" (you know this because your biology teacher measures you regularly - some sort of project or something, you don't really care), whereas you are about six feet tall and all lanky and awkward.

You basically hate everything about him.

Except for the fact that you actually adore all of it.

Your name is Dave Strider and you have a crush on John Egbert, a guy you know barely anything about.

* * *

One day, as you sit down in math and reach into your bag to get all the things you need for today's class, you realise you forgot to pack your calculator. Well, fuck, you guess you'll have to share with someone. Preferably with the person next to you. And since you sit right next to the wall, you only have one option – John. Damn.

Oh, speak of the devil. There he is, all smiles and cheerfulness, walking over to his desk in confident, relaxed steps.

"Hey, Dave!" he greets you as soon as he sits down.

"Uh, hey," you reply, a bit nervously, "do you think we could share your calculator today? I, um, forgot mine at home. And stuff."

Shit, why are you so nervous??? You hate what this boy does to you. Goddammit.

"Oh, sure!" he says and the bright smile he gives you makes butterflies erupt in your stomach.

Ugh, this is so stupid. Get it together, you don't live in a fucking romance movie.

"Thanks, man," you manage to get out and hey, it actually sounds a little less shaky than before. You mentally fistbump yourself.

Fortunately, the rest of the lesson goes pretty smoothly. You tap John on the shoulder everytime you need to borrow the calculator and when he needs it back, he always quietly (to not disturb the others) asks you if you're done, just to make sure. It works out pretty well.

As you’re solving the last one out of the set of problems your teacher had written on the board, you hand John back his calculator because you're pretty sure you won't be needing it anymore.

Right, just do this, then add this and divide it by this, aaand there, all done.

You're just about to lean back and stretch when you feel John gently tap you on your upper arm. You look at him, thinking that maybe he needs help with something, but then you notice he’s sliding the calculator over to you.

You eye it for a second, confusion written all over your face, then turn back to him.

"Uh, thanks and all, but I'm already d-" you pause as you notice that there are some numbers on the device's screen. Seven of them, actually. And they look like someone's phone number.

Could it be…?

"What, um, what's that?" you ask him just to make sure, and immediately regret it. Shit, way to make him think you're an absolute idiot.

"It's, uh, my phone number…" he mumbles, face completely red, and you would call it adorable if it weren't for the fact that you can feel yourself becoming just as red. Wow, you're so lame.

But the important thing right now is that you were right. Your crush seriously just basically asked you out using a goddamn calculator. Whoa.

"Oh, um, fuck, shit, I…"

You just have to keep digging your grave even further, don’t you??? Christ, hurry up and say something at least remotely intelligent!

You open your mouth in an attempt to do just that, but then…

The bell rings.

The next thing you know, John is swiftly getting up and putting all his stuff back in his bag, muttering something along the lines of _'sorry, I'll just go'_ and still blushing like crazy.

Not like you're any different, though. Your cheeks are still so red they could rival tomatoes.

Just as he's about to pick up the calculator, though, you put a hand over his, stopping him.

"Wait, I… I um, never managed to copy the number," you smile at him (albeit a bit awkwardly) and _holy shit yes, you fucking did it, you got a coherent sentence out of your mouth_.

After a few seconds of him staring at you, he finally smiles back.

"Okay," he says, the smile turning into a grin, and, shit.

You think you might actually be living in a romance movie.

**Author's Note:**

> oh HO HO um heh. i hope you liked it. but you probably didnt. because. idk. this is like my worst work yet wtf its just kinda bland and ugh.
> 
> bUT YEA anyway. im sorry if some things were inaccurate??? i dont know how exactly schools and classes work in america since im. not from america. or even the uk for that matter. czech republic represent, yo. (yes this also means english isnt my first language \m/)


End file.
